Lost Inside Myself
by swirlofcolor
Summary: Drabble:// In which Silena comes to terms with what she's missing, who she is, and what she's lost. Includes reflexions on love, on life, and on stereotypes.// "I've lost myself within myself and I don't know who I am." //


**-x-**

* * *

inspiration really does hit at the most bizarre times. written at three in the morning, yo.

set during _The Last Olympians._ **Spoilers** - you've been warned. Officially **disclaimed.**

* * *

**-lost-  
**_inside myself;_

_--_

{to all who've lost their way, keep looking - you might just find something you weren't expecting.}

--

The sun is setting over Manhattan, wrapping the black outline of mismatched buildings in intoxicating pink and orange hues, covering the city in a vibrant fire as if the sky itself were ripping apart at the seam. Behind the bright veil, the slightest hint of blue twinkles lightly in the distance, so far away, unreachable.

_(someone take a photograph for 'tis a sight to see)_

I am sitting on the rooftop of the Plaza Hotel, the eroded copper tiles creaking under me as my feet dangle off into the cool midnight air. Beneath me lie the wounded, the hopeless, the dead. The survivors, the few of them left, are all inside, preparing for sunset - but it does not matter, for they shall soon be in the hands of the cold, wet cement too, their dreams dissolved into nothingness.

_(it's almost a pity for there's no one here but me)_

I know I should be inside, helping the wounded, comforting the lost, but I can't bring myself to leave. I would have you believe that I _like_ to be alone, but I suppose that would be a lie, just like everything else in my life. If it were but me in the world, wouldn't I do much less damage? I can only will this statement to be true.

_(I've lost myself within myself and I don't know who I am)_

Truth be told, I don't know why I'm here. Be it my deep desire for seclusion or my need for fresh air, I don't believe myself anymore - I've told so many lies I can't remember what is real and what is not. Some would say it cannot be, I cannot want to be lonely, for I'm a daughter of Aphrodite and that would be so un-stereotypical of me. So _un-_lady like, so improper for a good, well brought up daughter, and we've all heard the drill, we know it _oh-so _well. It's engraved into our minds.

**:x:**

_**Aphrodite's demoiselles know how to behave. They enjoy socializing and gossiping and looking their best for whatever occasion they deem appropriate. When dealing with a daughter of this particular goddess, use polite manners and try to keep your eyes off them. Known for their sometimes-poisonous overuse of perfume, makeup, and passive-aggressive nature, this particular species is not considered a threat to most other forms of demigods. One in three will die because of lack of fighting skills.**_

**:x:**

Classified, stereotyped like animals, listed off as if we all share the same, impeccable mannerisms and shallow prejudices. Statistically wise, we are poor fighters. Treated as if we belong to the same breed of humans, that we're all the same. I can vouch that it is the same for most other demigods, too, for apparently we receive our godly parent's personality when we are born - a daughter of Athena or a son of Apollo? Please, we know it - they may as well not have names, not have feelings, for they are not but a miniature version of their parent. Shall I recite the drill for a child of Zeus? No? How about a son of Hermes? They _aren't_ all bad, you know. Well?

**:x:**

_**Hermes has many children, all of whom inherit his ability to steal or conveniently 'misplace' valuables. Known for their uncanny sense of humor and -**_

**:x:**

I really ought to stop, for you don't care. You've come to hear a story about great heroes with fascinating powers and skills, the good heroes whose hearts are filled with love and compassion, and I am anything but. I'm just lost, just me, just no one and everyone at the same time.

_(I used to know who I was, back when he was still there to remind me)_

I'm a spy, I'm a liar, I'm the girl who caused her boyfriend's death. For I have seen my future in a dream, and I know I shall die a hero, honored and loved, even though I do not deserve any of it. I am not a hero. I am not a stereotype. I am not a statistic.

I am just a person who lost her way in this world.

_(I'll be looking for it. If you see it, please contact the Plaza Hotel - extension number 4432)_


End file.
